Air is an important part of any landscape as well, although we seldom give it much thought. An artist has to paint the air so skillfully that we seem to feel the heat of the sun and the rush of the wind. He or she has to make us believe that it might take hours for a bird to fly from one side of the picture frame to the other. All of this is hard to do. There are no paint tubes for sale labeled "sunshine," "frosty air," "gentle breeze," or "gloomy day." An artist has to create the wind, the sunshine, and the mist with the paint at the end of the brush.

It is important to remember that a landscape artist is not a camera that records whatever happens to be in front of the lens. He is not required to paint exactly what he sees. If he feels that there are too many trees on a hill, he can leave some of them out of his picture. If he thinks the trees are in the wrong place, he can move them around. If a riverbank looks too empty, he can add a few rocks that aren't really there.

A landscape artist also has to decide what she wants us to see. If she is painting a field, she has to decide whether she wants us to see each blade of grass or whether she wants us to see the field as a smear of color. She can paint her landscape so that we see the field from above, as if we were looking down from an airplane, or from the ground, as if we were lying flat on a picnic blanket.

Before making any of these decisions, the landscape artist must decide whether to work outdoors on the land or indoors in the studio. Working outdoors allows him to observe the colors of nature-the soil, the clouds, and the reflections on water. He can study the patterns of sunlight and shadow that change with every passing moment. On the other hand, if he chooses to paint inside his studio, he can work more slowly, rearrange the composition, and adjust the colors and shapes to his own way of seeing. Many artists find both methods useful. They make sketches outdoors and then do the actual painting back in their studio. - from The Smithsonian
Statement 2007

I have pursued encaustics to create pieces that speak to a place that is somehow familiar and timeless. Transporting the viewer into the landscape is an inviting sense of depth, an image with a rich and layered surface that makes each piece look affected by the passage of time. My work responds to the concept of refuge and prospect. It is a basic human need and desire to seek out a secure and sheltered place, the refuge, looking out at a broad view, the prospect. Often I will incise lines at the edges of a work to further this sense of refuge, to create an architectural sense that the viewer is in a place looking out.

None of my works are of any particular scene per se. They are inspired by images and views that I have seen and are meant to be more archetypal. I have a large collection of art books and often times a small section of a painting, two colors working well together in the background, can inspire a work. The Renaissance painters in particular have fantastic backgrounds in their works, the colors and light, as well as the patina of age.

The sensory pleasures of working with encaustics never cease to amaze me. First, is the creation of the ground, cracked and irregular, subtly layered with color to bring out the imperfections and character of the surface. Then, the studio is filled with the scent of the beeswax that is the main component of the encaustic medium. The wax medium is layered with colored pigments, in a subtractive as well as additive process, to create the translucent depth of the surface, with the heat of the application process further enhancing the character of the ground under. Finally, the surface is fused with heat, to "freeze" the image in time.